For the longest time I have felt this strange uneasiness that I cannot dismiss, no matter how much I would like to ignore it. It is a thorn in my side that grates at my spine. The signs are there, but no one bothers to look. Earthmother is dying ever so slowly. It is a subtle taint that siphons the joy out of every delicious meal little by little, until everything carries the same stale flavour. I’m surprised that no one seems to notice, and the few who do, well, we’ve always been pariahs. I have no stomach for light-dwelling humans who strut around like peacocks in blatant denial of the corruption that has sunk deep into the earth. Arrogant fools. But it is of no conseqence, it is already too late to stem the vile flow their actions set in motion. I will watch as I always have, from the shadows while they huddle in desperation around lit bonfires. The disease is already in their blood. From The Breath of the Dying there is no escape. I bid you welcome to the dark of cold reality, Human.